


The Sea-Dwellers

by lotusk



Series: Paralians [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: A reminder that adele does not do character death, Alternate Timelines, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chanyeol with a dog, Drama & Romance, Epistolary, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and mild angst, Friendship, Jongin with a dog, Leaving letters and gifts for each other in the red mailbox, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Magical Realism, Parallel Universes, Quiet Chanyeol, Quiet Jongin, Romance, Romance Writer Chanyeol, chankai with a dog and these tags are dumb I'm sorry otl, chanyeol with glasses bc chanyeol with glasses wrh, glass blower Jongin, mild angst with happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/lotusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin is a glass blower in 2015 and Chanyeol is a writer in 2013. With the help of a very special, magical mailbox, they write letters to each other and fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to this fic, _The Red Mailbox_ , can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6213445)

**_2015 The Glassblower_ **

Jongin took a last, lingering look at the sea and inhaled. He would miss the smell of salt in the air and the creaking of the floorboards as he made his daily trek home. The jetty connecting _Il Mare_ with the white sands of Tranquility Beach was like a long, wood-planked spider leg stretched across the briny water. Meanwhile, the house itself was a peculiar configuration of straight lines and angles in honey colored timber and glass. It wasn't the cosiest house and some would even say it was a strange looking one—but it had still been Jongin's home for the past eighteen months. 

_Il Mare_. The Sea. It was the perfect name. With a pang in his chest, Jongin realized he wouldn't be crossing that jetty or living in that house anymore. Probably ever. 

He hadn't wanted to move but anyway, it couldn't be helped. He needed to be closer to Sehun until he was better. It didn't make sense to be living 45 minutes’ drive away if he wanted to be around to help his childhood friend. Reluctantly, his feet took him further away from the house and closer to the large, vintage red mailbox which stood at the midpoint of the sprawling jetty. Pulling the door open, he slipped the citrine colored envelope inside. 

"I hope you're the helpful sort," Jongin said aloud to the faceless, nameless tenant who would soon be living here instead of him.

With nothing but the squawking of gulls in the distance, the clanging of the small, wrought iron door seemed louder than it should have. It had a ring of finality to it, Jongin thought as his eyes scanned the lonely seascape before settling on the wooden and glass structure that was _Il Mare_. He sighed.

 _Time to go_.

**_2013 The Writer_ **

"Cola! Stay away from the edge!" Chanyeol yelled—his voice echoing across the water as the Dandie Dinmont Terrier yipped at the gulls swooping overhead. _Reckless dog_ , he shook his head as he lifted the door of the mailbox. The usual bills in white paper envelopes and...hmm. A citrine colored envelope addressed in neat handwriting. The letters were printed out clearly on the paper in bold black ink. 

To:  
The New Tenant,  
“Il Mare”

 _New tenant?_ Well that was odd considering Chanyeol had been the _current_ tenant for the past six months. Very odd, he thought as he slipped his finger under the flap of the envelope. Inside, he found a generic card decorated with a Christmas tree strung with fairy lights, and a cheery greeting. Beside the greeting was a handwritten note.

❧

Dear Tenant,

Hi, I'm the previous tenant of _Il Mare_ and I know we don't know each other at all but I hope you'll help me anyway. I’m expecting some mail in the coming weeks and I would be very grateful if you could forward the mail to the following address:

Apartment #1520,  
Maple Court,  
9, Elmore Avenue,  
Rockport 71660

I'll be happy to reimburse you for the postage. Sorry for any trouble caused. 

A Merry Christmas to you!

Sincerely yours,

Kim Jongin  
Dec 21, 2015

P.S. There are some red pawprints by the front door. The stains were there from when I first moved in and I never got round to removing them. Some turpentine should do it. Or...you can just leave them. I think they add character to the house. You'll get used to them. I know I did ^^

❧

Chanyeol scratched the back of his head. Pawprints? Maple Court? As far as he knew there were only vacant lots of land along Elmore Avenue. Although...there was a construction site on one of the corner lots. He wasn't sure what they were building but it probably wasn't even an apartment building. It didn't make any sense at all. Was this a prank? Even the date on the card was all wrong—2015 when it was only 2013 now.

Frowning, Chanyeol opened his front door and walked in with Cola trailing at his heels. As he shut the door, he found himself checking the floor for pawprints. 

"Nothing. Just as I thought," he mused aloud as Cola cocked his head and watched him—a perfect portrait of canine confusion. “Don’t worry,” Chanyeol said as he squatted in front of the brown haired terrier and stroked her beneath the chin, “I’m just as clueless as you are, girl.”

❧

Dear Mr. Kim,

I'm not quite sure what's going on but I've been the only tenant of "Il Mare" for the past six months. And there are no signs of red pawprints in any part of this house. Perhaps you mean a different “Il Mare”?

Merry Christmas to you too.

Sincerely (confused),

Park Chanyeol  
Dec 21st, 2013

PS: Why was your card dated 2015? That’s two years from now. Just saying.

❧

Dear Park Chanyeol,

I assure you I am perfectly serious about being the previous tenant of “Il Mare”! Are you trying to mess with me? And of course the red pawprints are there. Unless you removed them?

I hope you had a good Christmas. 

Sincerely (truthful), 

Kim Jongin  
Dec 26, 2015

PS: I’ve included a clipping of today’s newspaper so you can see for yourself that the year is indeed 2015. This is not a prank. Please smell the newspaper ink if you don’t believe me.

PPS: Please forward my mail—I really need it. Thank you.

❧

Dear Kim Jongin,

I smelt the ink and read the date and WHAT THE HELL?! I would have liked to give a more eloquent response than "WHAT THE HELL?" but my brain is apparently having spasms right now. This can’t actually be happening so I must, in fact, be hallucinating.

To show that I am also sincerely truthful, I have included a cutting of today’s newspaper so that you can see for yourself that it is 2013 where I am. Please observe that the pages are not yellowed with time and the ink is still exceedingly fresh.

Christmas was quiet. I have a deadline in mid-January and I’m behind with work so I decided to cancel Christmas. How about you?

How are we getting each other’s letters if we’re not even living in the same...? I’m trying to write time-space continuum without laughing but I’m Failing in The Most Epic of Ways. The most rational and acceptable explanation would be that I am actually hallucinating and none of this is actually happening. Please tell me this is so.

Sincerely (perplexed),

Park Chanyeol  
Dec 26th, 2013 

PS: I would have forwarded you your mail if any had come—but then there would be the question of your so-called mailing address. Your apartment building is still under construction. I have included a polaroid of the building site so you can see for yourself that Maple Court does not technically exist. Yet.

PPS: I'm not freaking out. Much. This can't be happening. Right?

❧

Dear Park Chanyeol,

I don’t understand. Sehun’s apartment building doesn't exist? But it does in 2015 and I've included some polaroids to prove it. Please note the street sign on the upper left corner of the picture. This is so surreal. I don't do too well with surreal so I'm going to work on the premise that you just gave me old photographs of Elmore Street. Until I can get used to the idea, anyway. If I ever do.

I'm not sure what's happening and how it's happening, but I wonder if we're actually allowed to show each other things from our time? Will that screw up the future? Or the past? I just—I don’t understand any of this. But at the same time, I want to understand. It must be the mailbox. Some weird magic. Or maybe I need to sleep more and give up alcohol altogether.

I'm sorry to hear you canceled Christmas. Did you miss being with family? I skipped Christmas to look after my friend and it was pretty quiet too. But we managed to put up a tree and finish half a bottle of wine. I drank most of it though because my friend is on medication and only had a few sips.

You said you have deadlines? What do you do? Ignore that question if that's too personal. I'm a glass blower by the way. I mean, that's what I do for a living. I create small pieces of glass artwork and leave them on sale in an art store in Rockport. Pretty boring job.

Are you doing anything for New Year’s Eve?

 

Sincerely,

Kim Jongin  
Dec 28, 2015

PS: Are you sure you're living in the year 2013? Please say no and tell me you're actually living in 2015 because I need you to be living in 2015. Yes.

❧

Dear Kim Jongin,

I wish I could tell you that I live in 2015 but sadly, I don't. I'm equally disturbed by how impossible this whole thing is—the fact that we're getting each other's letters when we're not actually in the same time and place as each other and yeah. Kinda freaky. But I'd like to continue writing to you for a while until we figure out how this is happening. Would that be okay?

It sounds like you managed to have a nice Christmas. Sorry to hear that your friend is sick and I hope he/she gets better real soon. My Christmas was quiet too but it wasn't so bad. I had my dog Cola for company. I finished a small pitcher of eggnog I made myself and I made Cola a vanilla milkshake, no sugar. We watched _It’s A Wonderful Life_ on TV and I totally felt like my emotions were being manipulated the whole time but I couldn’t stop watching? Maybe I was just too lazy to get off the couch. Or maybe I was just too lazy to get back to writing. Deadlines suck :/

Wow, that probably sounds like a pretty sad and lonely way to spend Christmas. But it really wasn’t. I actually enjoy solitude. It's what I'm used to and it's the main reason why I rented this house. There's no one for miles and it helps me focus when I need to work. As for what work I do...I write um, things lol. The less said about them, the better.

Being a glass blower sounds awesome. Where do you display your things? Do you have a website? I would love to check out your work. Do you make sculptures? Vases? I really don’t know much about glass blowing, I realize that now. Something I need to fix.

I went to town today and saw some potted poinsettia on sale. I know Christmas is over and this is probably a dumb thing to do but I thought it might add a nice splash of red to your apartment in the city. I’m not even sure this will get to you because maybe this time travel thing only works with letters. Anyway, just in case it doesn’t work, here’s a polaroid of the poinsettia. For insurance! They even tied a nice gauzy red and gold bow around the pot. I really like it and I bought one for myself too. It’s sitting in front of the kitchen window where it can catch the sunlight in the mornings.

I haven’t even thought about New Year’s! I’ll probably make Cola another milkshake—not chocolate though because that can kill dogs. I absolutely SHOULD NOT watch a lame New Year-themed movie on TV so I’ll probably work on finishing my thing because my deadline is speeding towards me. I don’t know which option sounds more pathetic LOL. Have you got any plans for New Year’s?

Wow, sorry for writing so much this time! I hope you weren’t too bored.

 

Sincerely,

Chanyeol  
December 28th, 2013

PS: I wonder if we can send each other emails? If you want to test the theory, my address is wishing_owl92@hotmail.com. I've had the same one since high school so I doubt I'll change it any time in the next two years. it would be kinda cool getting emails from the future (and the past) ^^.

**_2015 The Glassblower_ **

The small terracotta pot was heavier in his lap than Jongin had expected. He sat on the lip of the jetty, his gaze focused on the turquoise waves as he struggled with two revelations. One, objects other than letters could apparently survive the journey through time (or whatever you called the bizarre phenomenon that was allowing their letters to slip through two timelines). And two, Chanyeol from 2013 had a dog named Cola which was most likely the same dog named Cola waiting for Jongin back in his apartment in the city. What were the chances it wasn't the same Cola? 

_Practically nil, that's what. But how did Cola get separated from Chanyeol? Someone who took the trouble to make milkshakes for a dog would not abandon the dog. Where are you, Park Chanyeol?_

It didn't make any sense at all, Jongin sighed as he stared intensely at the sea—like it would somehow offer up the answers he sought.

**_18 months earlier_ **

The day Jongin began moving his belongings into _Il Mare_ , he'd found a forlorn looking dog wandering near the house. It wore a red collar and its fur was just beginning to lose its shine. It wasn't quite thin yet so it seemed like the dog had been well taken care of till fairly recently. 

"Hello, dog," Jongin had bent down on one knee and waited for the medium sized terrier to approach him. It was a little wary but eventually walked right up to Jongin—letting Jongin stroke him with anxious eyes. "What's your name?" he asked as he examined the tag on his collar. The brass disc was engraved with four letters: C-O-L-A. "Where's your family, dog? This is the only house around for miles. Who do you belong to?" But all the dog did was whine like its heart was breaking.

For the following week, Jongin asked around town but no one claimed ownership of the dog. The taciturn old man who ran the dry goods store said there was a man who used to come in and buy things from him. He had a dog that looked like this one but he hadn’t seen him in almost two months. In the end, Jongin had printed out a few _Lost and Found_ notices with a scanned image of Cola and his phone number on it. Then he’d left notices at the dry goods store as well as a few of the coffee shops in town. But no one ever called. And Cola had gradually become the dog who lived at _Il Mare_ with its new tenant, the glassblower Kim Jongin.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

The poinsettia made it—THANK YOU. I’ve included a polaroid of it sitting by the living room window. That's the window that gets the most sun so I think it'll be happiest there. Sehun says it brightens up the apartment. That's my friend who's recuperating from hip-pinning surgery. I’m staying with him until he's better.

I can't believe it's New Year's Eve already and the year is almost over. I'm writing this letter by the living room window so I can see outside. The trees that line my street are covered in fairy lights, even the trunks, and the skyline is blazing with lights. It's like the whole world is on fire! So beautiful, and the fireworks haven't even gone off yet. Sehun wanted to stay up for the countdown but he fell asleep about an hour ago. It's 11.42 p.m. now but he's snoring away so contentedly on the sofa that I don't have the heart to wake him up. Maybe the fireworks will wake him up lol.

So...I tried emailing you this morning. I gave a brief explanation of who I was with an attached scan of your letter where you asked me to email you. Just so 2015 Chanyeol wouldn’t freak out over some random stranger suddenly emailing him lol. Although technically, 2015 Chanyeol should remember asking me to do it. But here’s the thing—my email got bounced back with a delivery failure message saying “user unknown”. I guess you must have changed your address sometime in the last two years? I might try again tomorrow but I have a feeling this means that we weren’t meant to email each other. Anyway, letters are kinda...nice. Or at least I like them, anyway—I love that dry, crisp feel of paper between my fingers as I read the words.

Maybe we can try texting since emailing is a possible no-go? But I’ve only had this number since early 2014 so don’t think this number would work for you :/ Anyway, if you want me to try texting you...give me your phone number.

I’m sorry you won't be able to find any of my work in 2013 because I was working for a glass manufacturer until mid 2014. I decided I had done it long enough—making things designed by other people. There was a team of glassblowers at the firm, twenty of us, and all we did was make blown glass items in large quantities. There was nothing unique about each piece, you know? Like we were given one design and asked to make fifty to a hundred copies of the same thing. It was a decent job and it paid the bills but I guess a part of me was struggling to breathe. I couldn't express my own ideas at work, and after a while, I guess I just wanted to do my own thing. 

You've probably found the gift box by now. I forgot to label it FRAGILE so I hope you didn't drop it lol. If it broke though, I can always make you another one. I have no idea what you like but since you're living at ‘Il Mare’, I'm guessing you like the sea at least a little. I know I rented that place because I love the sea and this house is surrounded by sea so it's something really special. It was nice going to sleep every night with the sounds of the waves as a lullaby. I miss it. My lullaby now is the sound of cars passing and it's a poor substitute for the sea. I've realized in the months since I left Tranquility Beach that I'm a true paralian. You know that word? It's originally Greek and means sea-dweller. I'm just not made for city living :/

So the thing I gave you is a paperweight—nothing fancy. The splashes of turquoise in the center of the glass sphere are supposed to be ocean waves. You said you write, so maybe you could use it to keep your notes from flying off the desk. Do you use post-its or loose leaf or a notebook? Or do you use a bit of everything? Or maybe you use some special software? Sorry for all the questions but I'm always curious about any kind of creative process.

I use a sketchbook mostly—to draw quick sketches of ideas that come to me. I carry one around all the time because I never know when I'll see or hear or read something that will inspire me. Sometimes I scribble down quotes or poems I see. You'll be amazed how much poetry ends up on the walls of train stations and bus-stop benches and the façades of buildings. Sometimes it's words that inspire and sometimes it's physical things I see. A glass bowl. A nectarine. Dragonfly wings. A red balloon floating along an abandoned alley. A single, purple flower growing out of a crack in the pavement. It could literally be ANYTHING.

I haven't been able to work with molten glass since I moved to the city though and it's frustrating. But it's a lack I'll have to deal with because renting studio space in the city is ridiculously expensive, and there's no point when I have to take Sehun for rehab sessions every day. So I'm just taking a few months off glassblowing for now. I hope to get back to Tranquility Beach eventually, and maybe even 'Il Mare'—if it's still available for rent. I wonder why no one's moved in since I left. Why did you move out of 'Il Mare'? I miss the sea and the gulls. The crabs and seashells. The seafoam. And mostly I miss the quiet. It's so calm and I did some of my finest work there.

I'm not usually the kind of person who gets into people's business but WHAT DO YOU WRITE? You don't have to tell me any specific details because I understand if you want to keep that private. But maybe the genre at least so I can imagine you sitting at your desk in the house I used to live in, typing out mystery novels or thrillers or maybe romances? I don’t want to pry but I hope you'll tell me one day. How are things going with your writing? Will you finish on time? I hope you do.

Oh! The fireworks are going off! Sehun’s sleeping through all the noise and I have no one else to wish so Happy New Year, Chanyeol! I hope you took time off writing to celebrate the New Year. It’s a nice time of year to have people around so I hope you went to town and partied a bit. Don’t be mad but I’m sure Cola would have appreciated a break from your company ^^. I’m glad we stayed in though. It’s so cold this winter and it just didn’t make sense to take Sehun out in this kind of weather. 

Okay, I think I’ve kept you quite long enough. I’m pretty sure I’ve never written a letter this long in my life, I’m so sorry lol. I hope you had a great New Year's and that you like the paperweight!

Happy New Year,

Jongin  
~~Dec 31~~ 1 January 2016

PS: I can't believe it's 2016 already and that it's 2014 for you. I don't know how and why this is happening but I really enjoy your letters. They always make me smile.

**_2014 The Writer_ **

So apparently objects other than letters and photographs could make it safely through the red letterbox to 2015 Jongin. There were so many possibilities but the only thing he cared about right now was how much he really wanted to know what Jongin looked like. He could ask for a picture...but a part of him was superstitious. He felt somehow that knowing what the other person looked like might ruin the magic a little—maybe even change things between them. The mystery and the not knowing was half the fun and Chanyeol didn't want to spoil any of that. He didn't know much about Kim Jongin yet, but the small number of puzzle pieces he'd collected made him feel warm all over and he clung to them possessively. 

No, he would not risk this unusual (enchanted?) correspondence they had begun. He didn't want the letters to stop coming so he wouldn't ask for a photograph. It was a bit like writing in a way—you had to keep the reader guessing right till the end. 

The glass sphere pressed down heavily on his palm. It was so heavy it felt like it was making an indelible imprint on his skin. Delicate swirls of turquoise lay in the centre of the blown glass and they were the exact shade of the sea surrounding _Il Mare_. Chanyeol felt strangely moved as he stared into the exquisite paperweight. He wondered what other things Kim Jongin created and whether they were all as beautiful as the thing he held in his hand.

He wondered too, about Jongin’s friend Sehun and how much he meant to the glass blower. Clearly, he meant enough to Jongin that he was willing to relocate and to put his career on hold. Were they just friends or perhaps somewhat more than friends? And for one brief, shameful moment, Chanyeol felt envious of Sehun—that he could inspire such utter devotion. But it was just a brief moment because that wasn’t the kind of person Chanyeol was, or had ever been. This was a new sensation and he didn’t like it at all. 

_I hope you get better soon, Sehun_ , he thought as he placed the paperweight on the windowsill, behind his work desk. The sunlight filtered through the glass, casting gorgeous turquoise shadows on the pale oak surface that lapped over his mouse in the most distracting way. Kim Jongin was certainly a distraction, but he was one that Chanyeol didn’t want to give up.

❧

Dear Jongin,

I’m so glad you like the poinsettia—and Sehun too. I hope he’s much better now. 

I didn’t drop the paperweight! Which is a miracle in itself because I am one of the biggest klutzes in known history lol. I am indeed passionate about the sea and thanks to your beautiful gift, I now have a piece of the sea with me while I work. As you can see from the polaroid, it has a special place on my windowsill. Thank you. I am impatient to see more of your art pieces for myself but I guess I’ll be able to by the end of this year? Please tell me the name and address of the store where they’re sold. I’m excited!

New Year’s Eve was a quiet, boring affair for me and poor Cola did not get a vacation from my dull company, I’m afraid. Poor dog. She spent some time cowering under my desk when the fireworks went off at midnight, but just for a little while though as my neighbors are so far away that the fireworks weren’t exactly loud. I spent the night writing, with Cola for companionship and half a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for some token New Year cheer. Not a very exciting holiday but at least it looks like I might meet my publisher’s deadline.

So you want to know what I write? I write throwaway paperbacks that you wouldn’t read, trust me. Maybe I’ll tell you a few letters from now. Maybe by then, you’ll have grown so accustomed to receiving my letters that you’d miss them if we stopped writing to each other. Because believe me, you might not want to be my friend anymore when you find out what I write lol. Okay, that’s enough said about the questionable things I write. But yes, I will tell you one day, Jongin ^^.

I can’t understand what happened with my email though. I can’t imagine why I would have set up a new account because I promised myself I would never change the name wishing_owl92. When I was in middle school, I moved to a small town and I met this boy called Yixing. He became my best friend. You know how sometimes you know people your whole life and you're never as close to them as you are to someone you've just met? It was like that with Yixing and me. It probably sounds really cheesy but we were like soulmates. We liked the same books and we both loved animals and we both shared the same weird sense of humor that no one else understood or found funny. He was the best friend I ever had. 

Yixing had this owl he loved so much. It was a Short-eared Irish Owl so he decided to give it an Irish name, Finnegan (Finn for short). He didn't keep Finn in a cage because he said owls should live free. He used to say he was just looking after Finn for a while—until Finn got tired of being his friend. So he had a feeder for Finn out in the backyard and a perch and that was it. Finn was free to come and go, but that bird loved Yixing and he was around more often than not. 

One summer, Yixing got really sick—meningitis or something—and he was at the hospital all the time and his mom was so tired from looking after him that she asked if I could take care of feeding Finn and I said sure. We lived next door so it wasn't hard to do and I missed Yixing, and being with Finn made me feel closer to my best friend somehow. I got to visit Yixing every few days or so but it wasn't really enough. I missed talking to him about everything. You know what that's like, right? I'm sure you talk to Sehun about everything.

So I started taking care of Finn. He flew back to Yixing's backyard every evening for food and he'd stay for a while after he finished eating—just standing on the perch, watching me. Maybe he was waiting for Yixing to show up, who knows? I found myself asking Finn if owls could grant wishes and I told him that I wished Yixing would get well soon and come home to us. And I know it's dumb but that bird seemed to know what I was saying. 

Anyway, I'm sure owls can't grant wishes but Yixing got better with time and he finally came home after a three-week stay at the hospital. I was so thankful that I hadn't lost my best friend. I'd been in this suspended state for weeks, you know? Hoping he'd make it and yet trying not to hope because what if he didn't? But he did and we still try to see each other at least once a year and sometimes we go on short vacations together—just to touch base. We talk all the time via text or email but we live on opposite ends of the country so meeting up is anything but easy. We try our best though. 

We still like the same books, although we don't have the time or space to keep quite as many pets anymore. Much to my regret, we still have the same dumb sense of humor no one else gets! Finn died quite a few years back but I still like to think that that summer Yixing got sick, the wishes I whispered to that owl somehow worked and they helped him get better. 

I've never told anyone that story, not even Yixing, and I'm sorry I dumped my secret on you but...I guess I wanted you to understand why I would never change my email address. Like I might get a new one, a spare one, but I would never get rid of the wishing_owl92 one. I know it's dumb but it's like a lucky charm not to mention a symbol of my friendship with Yixing. I wish I could send a text to my future self to ask what happened but then again, I'm not sure I want to know the answer :( Wow, I am sorry this letter has taken such a depressing turn. I'll try to lighten up now, I promise. 

Thank you for sharing your creative process with me. I'm so curious to see what kind of sketches and notes you make in your sketchbook. I'm sure you draw the most exquisite images if your paperweight is anything to judge by. I'm not so different from you, Jongin, as I never leave home without my notebook and pen. I often have to sit down on park benches or stoops so I can scribble down ideas for my stories. And if I’m walking along the beach, I’ll likely end up sitting on a rock or on the edge of the jetty. The catalyst could be an ad I've seen on a billboard or a bagel I've seen in a shop window, an antique lamp-post, a piece of sea-glass or driftwood, or maybe even a piece of gum wrapper that gets stuck to my shoe. Anything can fire my brain and make it move in weird directions. And if that happens, I must write it all down before it vanishes. Ideas are so ephemeral, don't you agree? They won’t wait till we have time to sit down and reflect and record. So, like you, I never go anywhere without pen and paper.

In answer to your question about my creative process, when I plan my writing, I tend to write down a basic outline of my story on paper first. Events in chronological order, in bullet form. Then I add details in multicolored ink and I might add post-its later on. A lot of writers like to put their outlines entirely on the computer but I like a more tactile approach. I like paper. I like handwriting. So your paperweight is definitely going to be useful!

Anyway, you’ve probably figured out from my fixation with paper that I’m a pretty old-fashioned kind of guy. That’s one of the reasons I prefer actual letters like the ones we’re writing to each other. There’s something about seeing words on paper formed by a person’s hand, you know? Every person’s handwriting is unique—colored by their personality and character. It’s not just a matter of getting a letter or an email in a standard font like Times New Roman or Arial or even Comic Sans (yuck). Everyone’s handwriting is unique and special and I like that. Yours is so neat that it makes me wonder if you’re neat by nature, too. Mine is messy as you can see, but I actually keep my home and workspace tidy because I can’t work if there’s mess around me. Funny how that works out. 

This letter is so long, it's practically bordering on abuse lol. Please say you'll write back anyway. Just one last thing though, before I go. You said you missed the crabs and the seashells here. I didn't want to take my chances with leaving a crab in the mailbox lol, but I'm giving you some seashells I collected from the beach on my walk this morning. Just as you gave me a little piece of the sea to put on my work desk, I'm hoping these seashells find their way to the city where you live. I took ages choosing the most perfect ones so please give them a nice home.

Take care, Jongin!

Chanyeol  
January 3rd, 2014

PS: I promise I'll write a shorter letter next time. Please write back TT.TT

**_2016 The Glassblower_ **

Jongin had to smile at Chanyeol's PS. The silly man, he thought as he shook his head. If only he knew that Jongin would have quite happily read pages and pages more about him. His heart still felt achey and full from reading the story about Chanyeol's friend and his owl. The Short-eared Irish Owl was a majestic looking bird. He’d Googled it and he could see why Chanyeol and his friend Yixing had liked Finnegan so much. 

_Why are you getting sentimental over an owl, Kim Jongin? You don't even like birds._

He was glad Chanyeol's friend Yixing had made it. He'd been worried when he was reading the account because everything had seemed to point towards Yixing dying. He really had been bracing himself for the worst, and overwhelming relief had coursed through him when he'd read that Yixing had come home from the hospital. Mostly, he was happy that Chanyeol hadn't lost his friend.

Jongin had propped Chanyeol’s polaroid against his dresser mirror. Sunlight filtered through paperweight, coming out an intense turquoise and Jongin was glad he'd chosen to work copper oxide into that piece of glass all those months ago—back when he'd still lived at _Il Mare_. The pale wood surface of the desk surrounding the marine paperweight was clear of clutter. The photograph showed nothing but the paperweight on the windowsill, and a desk empty of everything but a sleek white mouse and fragments of an iMac monitor and the flat white chiclets of a keyboard. It seemed Park Chanyeol really was an extremely tidy person. Jongin felt he was somewhere at the halfway mark—not quite messy and not quite untidy, but somewhere in between. He wondered how Chanyeol would feel about that. Truth be told, he wondered how Chanyeol felt about a lot of things. He also wanted to know what Chanyeol looked like; but at the same time, it didn’t really matter that Jongin had never seen him, because he was already hopelessly drawn to him anyway. 

There was an emptiness simmering beneath his fingertips as Jongin struggled with the knowledge that he hadn’t worked with glass for three weeks now. It was an emptiness that was fast becoming a throbbing—especially now that he had an idea that was trying to burn its way out of his skin. There had to be a glass blowing studio in the city where he could hire a glory hole, kiln, furnace and annealing oven. He had the glass working tools after all; he just needed a proper workspace. Mind made up, Jongin reached for his sketchbook and pencil, and begin to draw.

After fifteen minutes of fevered drawing and erasing and shading, Jongin had a preliminary sketch he was reasonably happy with. He just had to refine it and do a few more draft sketches and then he could take out his toolbox and head for an available studio. He turned to look at the array of seashells laid out neatly on his bedside table. Chanyeol had given him six pretty ones in hues of peach and pale grey and cream, stored in a small, Prussian blue gift box. He thought they were a thousand times more exquisite than the paperweight he'd given Chanyeol. And while Jongin had been more than happy to share the poinsettia with Sehun, he'd felt somehow possessive of the seashells Chanyeol had taken the time to carefully select. So he'd taken them straight to his bedroom without showing them to his best friend—for reasons he didn't care to examine.

Jongin missed _Il Mare_ , his former home. He missed the sea and the sand and the surf. But now, thanks to Chanyeol, he had a few pieces of the sea on his bedside table. It was nice.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

I love long letters. The longer the better so please write as much as you want and I promise I will reply! The seashells you gave me have made me feel a little bit like I’m back at ‘Il Mare’...

❧

Dear Jongin,

I'm holding the glass wishing owl in my hand right now and I'm trying really hard not to cry but my eyes aren’t cooperating. I'm a grown man, I shouldn't be crying so why are my cheeks all wet? Please don't think I'm upset by your gift because it couldn't be further from the truth. I'm just this weird mixture of emotional and happy and a little sad right now—not sad in a bad way but sad because I suddenly miss Finn? 

But more than anything, I can't believe that you would go to all this trouble for me and that you would pick the one thing that means so much to me. I usually have too many things to say, but right now my heart is the one spilling over with things while my head is out of words. I'm just—

Thank you so much, Jongin.

I know we've only been writing for just over a month but sometimes I feel like it's been much longer. Do you remember what I told you about my friendship with Yixing? About how we only met in middle school but I felt closer to him than I had to anyone I’d known my whole life? I feel that way sometimes when I read your letters...when I write you letters. When you show me glimpses of your life and your character—there’s just so much I connect with and I feel like we’ve known each other always. I’m probably not making any sense. I should stop. 

I hope I haven’t made things awkward between us by saying too much. I’m not usually like this but the glass owl just...it was too much for me. I felt too much. I’m sorry. At least my cheeks aren’t wet anymore. They just itch a little—the salt from the tears, I think lol. It’s not a sensation I’m familiar with because I don’t think I’ve cried since I was twelve. I’ve never watched a single movie that’s moved me to tears—not even _Saving Private Ryan_. Yixing once told me that maybe my tear ducts were defective or needed activating because he’s known me for more than a decade and he’s never seen me cry. I guess today proves my tear ducts work just fine. Will you help me come up with a name for this owl? I don’t want to call him Finn. This will be a brand new wishing owl that Jongin gave me. Not one I was just looking after while Yixing was away.

I was thinking about putting the owl on my work desk but in the end, I decided that I want him on my bedside table after all. I hope he can put up with my snoring. My sisters—did I ever mention I have five sisters? Yeah, I have five sisters and I’m the youngest. I managed somehow to survive my childhood unscathed, despite my exposure to years and years of unrestrained talk about periods and cramping and tampons and feminist ideals. But anyway, I digress! All my sisters have complained at some point or the other that I snore like a freight train and they feel sorry for the poor soul I end up spending my life with. Anyway, I hope my wishing owl won’t mind my snoring. Do you snore, I wonder ...

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

I didn’t mean to make you sad. It was never my intention, but your story about Finn touched me. And I felt, I just wanted you to have a wishing owl of your own, you know? He looks very happy in his new home, Chanyeol. As for the things you said about how it feels like we’ve known each other always...well, I feel that way too. I’ve never been good with words—always the quiet one in most social situations and that’s why Sehun and I have always been such good friends. It’s because he’s just as quiet as me and there’s no pressure to talk. When we were growing up—in middle school and high school—we were more likely to hang out at home. Just gaming or watching anime together or I’d just sketch and paint on my own. 

Even now, we’re still quiet together. We talk...but at the same time, we don’t have to? But we’re always there for each other if that makes any sense. So getting to know you has been something new for me because suddenly I’m writing so much and I’m writing down all these words lol. I’m still not good with words but I’m surprised at how much pleasure I get from sitting down and telling you things about my life and things about me. By the way, I um...don’t snore. Or at least I’ve been told that by Sehun and my...well, my ex. Apparently, it’s a really freaky how little noise I make when I sleep. Five sisters, wow! That’s truly amazing. I have no siblings—maybe that’s why I’m so quiet. 

I really suck at names but I was thinking an Irish name would be best since I modeled the wishing owl after the Short-Eared Irish Owl. So anyway, I did some research on Irish names because obviously, I’m no expert lol. I think I like Carrick best because it means “rock”, like dependable, you know? What do you think? If you’re not keen on it, we can always pick another one that you like...

**_2014 The Writer_ **

_Jongin’s ex. Ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend?_

The words taunted Chanyeol as he dipped the paintbrush into viscous scarlet liquid. The paint had been flaking off of the mailbox for weeks and after forty minutes of staring at the blank page on his monitor, Chanyeol had decided to get out of the house and give that mailbox a fresh coat of red. The weather was cool and dry: perfect weather for painting. But Chanyeol was hopelessly distracted.

Why wouldn't Jongin have an ex who had slept beside (with?) him in the past? Even Chanyeol had had a couple in his time. He wanted to ask Jongin—no, he needed to ask him so that he could stop twisting and turning in this well of curiosity. How would Jongin take it though? Would he find it an invasion of privacy? But it was Jongin who had brought up the ex so maybe he _wanted_ Chanyeol to ask him about it? 

He made a sound of frustration—all this second-guessing was getting him nowhere. Impatiently, he stuck his brush into the small can—the handle striking the side of the can so hard that a small amount of paint sloshed over the side. _Dammit_ , he swore as vibrant red splashed and spread and soaked into the wood planking.

"Focus, Park Chanyeol!" He chided himself before throwing himself back into the task. Thoughts of Jongin still plagued him but he managed to concentrate enough to finish painting the mailbox without any further accidents. He'd have to remember to remove the paint stains later. Lucky he had some rubbing alcohol lying around the house.

He was just about to shut the front door when furry limbs wriggled past his ankles. "What happened to 'people, first', dog?" he grumbled goodnaturedly, shaking his head. Then he saw them: bright red paw prints by the main door—just like the ones Jongin had described in his first letter. Scooping Cola into his arms before she could leave a trail of scarlet prints all over the house, Chanyeol stared at the red marks thoughtfully and decided that he'd remove all of today's paint stains except these ones. Yes, he’d leave these here. 

_For Jongin_.

❧

Dear Jongin,

... I think I’m ready to tell you what I really do for a living, but you have to promise me you won’t judge, okay? So anyway, I write paperback romances. For women. Yes, women. I tried writing other things at first but I couldn't find a genre I was comfortable with. I was only writing part-time then and working for a women's magazine as a features journalist. I had to write an article once about how much money romance novelists make.

It was an eye opener and I thought, maybe I should try writing a romance? I mean I kinda knew all there was to know about being a woman short of actually being a woman. After all, I grew up in a house with six women, and for some reason, my sisters never saw the need to filter their conversations around an innocent boy. Sometimes I think they didn't filter on purpose because they wanted to shock me. Honestly, it's a miracle I didn't suffer any lasting psychological trauma lol. And my mom just let them do whatever because she was just too frazzled and overwhelmed by the parent-to-child ratio of 2:6 to worry about her only son being grossed out by talk about period cramps and sore breasts and kissing boys. 

So I tried writing my first romance when I was 25, i.e. three years ago. It was Utter Crap but it didn't do so badly sales-wise. Well it did decently enough for the publisher to keep me around, anyway. I've written another four since then, using a feminine pseudonym so readers will think I'm a woman. It's just, you know, easier if the readers don't know that the stories are being written by a tall, awkward dude in glasses. 

Also, I don't really need any of my friends and family knowing I write paperback romances like...just no lol. But I continue to do it because the money's pretty good and I actually enjoy writing the romances. Also, women seem to like reading my books? Which is kind of ironic considering I’ve never actually kissed a woman, let alone made love to one. Come to think of it, I’ve never even held hands with a woman. Isn’t it funny how life can turn out?

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

...This is an important question for me so I hope you'll answer it. I’ll understand if you decide not to answer the question but I would really, truly like to know why you haven’t held hands with a woman or kissed or made love to one? Is it because you haven't met the right woman or do you have other reasons? I've never held hands or kissed or made love to a woman either. Isn't it funny how both our lives turned out that way?

Also, would you mind telling me what your pseudonym is because I REALLY WANT TO READ YOUR BOOKS. I want to see if you write stories the same way you write letters, because if you write books the same way you write letters, I’m not surprised people like your stories. You have a way of pulling the reader in—I really mean that in an I-swear-I’m-not-trying-to-suck-up-to-you way. So tell me your pseudonym so I can read your “things”. I’ve never read a paperback romance before and if I’m ever going to read one, I want it to be one of yours (if it sounds like I’m begging, that’s because I am). 

PS: You wear glasses? This is—I just...I really find guys with glasses really attractive. That's all I wanted to say.

❧

Dear Jongin,

You’re not freaked out by the idea of me writing women’s romances. 

I don’t even know how to tell you how relieved that makes me feel. I was so worried you’d be a little weirded out by it and I’m so glad you’re not. You’ll surely regret asking this but I use the name Chaewon Park when I write romances. I’m too embarrassed to say more so you’ll have to Google anything else you want to know. Not even my family knows. They think I write feature articles for women’s magazines under some pseudonym I’m obnoxiously withholding from them lol. They try and dig it out from me a few times a year but I am AN IMPENETRABLE WALL they will never break through. I would not survive the decades of teasing if they ever found out. As for my parents, I fear their conservative hearts could not cope with the knowledge that their son writes sappy romances for a living. Fun fact: at least one or more of my sisters reads my books because I've seen all five titles scattered across the bookshelves at home. I want to tell them SO BAD that Chaewon Park is Park Chanyeol lol. But seriously? I'll never do it because they'd give me so much shit!

Why haven’t I held hands with, or kissed, or made love to a woman? Because I don’t find women attractive. I’ve never found girls or women attractive and I never will as far as I can tell. And well, I’m okay with that. I hope you are too. I hope I haven't said too much. 

...PS: Please write back even if you’re not okay with me not being attracted to girls. Please? I would really miss your letters if you stopped writing to me.

PPS: Yes I wear glasses but I'm not sure you'd find me attractive. I'm really nothing much to look at. Do you wear glasses?

❧


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Chanyeol,

First of all, you do not write sappy romances. Funny and insightful and moving? Yes. Sappy? No. So. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can see why women like your books—they’re sweet and funny and maybe just a little heartbreaking. I confess I am now a fan of Chaewon Park’s novels! I bought every one of your books that I could find at the bookstore two blocks from here and read them all in three days. Unfortunately, they were missing two of your titles so I ordered those from Amazon; I’m expecting them to arrive in two days. I’m impatient! Your most recent book was published in mid 2014. I wonder why you haven’t published anything since. Maybe you decided to try writing other things? 

As for the thing about not finding girls attractive...I have never found them attractive either and I believe I never will. Like you, I am okay with this and I believe we are both okay with each other being this way. That didn’t make any sense at all but I hope you understand me anyway. 

… PS: I can’t imagine us not writing letters to each other so I hope you’ll write back—even if you’re not okay with me not liking girls. I would really miss your letters too if you stopped writing. So. Write back, please? 

PPS: I don't wear glasses. I hope you're not disappointed. I'm not anything much to look at either.

❧

Dear Jongin,

So we’re both not attracted to girls and we are both okay with this. I’m doing that thing again where I usually have so much to say about everything but I’m suddenly unable to find the words to express how I feel. Would it be enough to say that this makes me so happy? Yes, it makes me very, very happy. I’ll stop trying to say anything more. I’m just embarrassing myself. Also, I don’t think I will ever stop writing to you—not unless you make me stop, so yeah. 

Okay, I’ll change the subject now because...yeah. I’ll stop now. 

...I watched a movie yesterday that made me cry. I want my old tear ducts back because my current pair are getting excessively active. Have you watched 'Léon: The Professional'? Please tell me you’ve seen this movie and that you cried too and that I'm not defective...

...PS: ((I’m so happy^^)) 

PPS: I don't care if you wear glasses or not. You're already attractive to me. Ok, I'll stop now.

❧

Dear Chanyeol

I’m happy too. I really, really mean that. And I guess we’ll be writing letters to each other for a long time. Unless we...never mind, I’ll leave that for another letter lol.

I haven’t seen the movie you mentioned but now I want to. I’ve never found anything wrong with crying, personally. I do it from time to time when I read a book or film that moves me—I’m like my parents in that sense. Sometimes it’s music that does it—like I cry every time I hear Barber’s ‘Adagio for Strings’. I mean I shouldn’t react that way every single time because God knows I’ve heard it so many times in my lifetime. But yeah. Every single time I hear it, my chest gets all heavy and the tears just come—not a lot, but enough to show me how much the music touches parts of my soul. That sounds so cheesy but it’s pretty much the truth. I hope you don’t think less of me because my tear ducts work a little too well.

I cried a little after Sehun had his hip surgery. He was in so much pain and all I could do was sit with him and keep him company. Also, he didn’t say anything, but I know he was sad that his parents didn’t come to see him—even with the surgery. They are not okay about him being gay, you see, and have refused to see him for almost two years now. It was hard for me, seeing him suffer like that, but I didn’t cry in front of him. I did it later, when I was alone in the hospital cafeteria. That was a little heavy, I’m sorry :/ Anyway he’s much better now…

**_2016 The Glassblower_ **

The cool air bit and nipped at Jongin’s skin as he stood in front of the red mailbox. The drizzle was cold, and gloomy, and all the shades of grey. Even the sky seemed to be mocking him with its moody greyness. His dark green umbrella was keeping the rain off him, but the hem of his jeans were already spattered with rainwater. Carefully, he slid his letter into the cavern of the mailbox and let the door clang shut.

It occurred to Jongin that if he was going to keep driving all the way out to Tranquility Beach every three days to drop off and collect letters, then he might as well have never moved out from _Il Mare_. He was too attached. Some days he was so impatient to read the letters he didn’t even wait till he got home to reply them. If he had a bit of extra time, he’d spend at hour at one of the nearby cafés so he could read and reply Chanyeol’s letter and drop it off at _Il Mare_ before heading back to the city. 

Intrinsically, he knew it wasn’t healthy to become so attached to Chanyeol and that he should write letters less often and make less frequent trips out to Tranquility Beach. _I should wait a week before I come out here again_ , he told himself before sighing. _Who are you kidding, Kim Jongin? You’ll be standing in front of this mailbox in three days’ time._

Then he realized that he wouldn’t be at Tranquility Beach in three days’ time. He would be on the road somewhere with Sehun—thinking of Chanyeol’s reply languishing in the red metal box outside _Il Mare_. Unread. Waiting for Jongin to collect it. Just lying there. 

He suddenly felt very glum as he took the short walk to his car. It had been four months since Jongin had left that first letter for Chanyeol, and he wondered why no new tenant had taken up residence at _Il Mare_. But most of all, he wondered where Chanyeol was right now and whether he was well and happy. Jongin really needed Chanyeol to be well and happy.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

...There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you but I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I’m sure you’ve seen the Polaroid by now. It’s a picture of my dog Cola. I kind of adopted her after I moved to ‘Il Mare’. She was wandering around the jetty and she had a collar and name tag on but she didn’t seem to have a home to go to. So I put up notices around town: asking if she belonged to anyone. But no one ever claimed her and she seemed to like me okay and so I kept her and she’s been with me since. I wonder if—does my Cola look anything like your dog Cola? They can't be the same dog, can they? I mean, they could just happen to have the same name, right? Please tell me it’s a coincidence...

❧

Dear Jongin,

I don’t understand. Your Cola looks exactly like my Cola—she even has the same red collar and brass name tag. I have to admit that I’m a little upset because I would never abandon my dog, Jongin, I hope you know that. Something must have happened to me, but what? Maybe you should Google my name and something will show up in the search. But what if I it turns out I died or went missing or something like that? I'm not sure I want to know if something bad happened to me. It it were something bad, I might be tempted to do things differently to avoid getting hurt. And what if those actions impact negatively on the timeline and other people get hurt besides me and yeah...Don't google my name. We shouldn't tamper with fate, if that makes any sense. I'm sure there's a logical reason for how Cola ended up being your dog in 2014. But let's just find out in our time. No cheating.

...PS: I'm kinda scared. What if something really did happen to me? But no cheating. Promise me. I really, really don't want to know.

**_2016 The Glassblower_ **

Of course, Jongin had known that Chanyeol wouldn't have given Cola up on his own. Chanyeol seemed like the sort of person who was loyal and who wouldn't desert anyone or anything without a compelling reason. A half dozen, possible scenarios flashed through his head and none of them made Jongin feel good. All of them did, however, make Jongin even more determined to spend every moment he could with Chanyeol—never mind that it was virtual, it was still time. And who knew? Perhaps they would find some way to meet. Somewhere, somehow, they would meet.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

How are you? I took Sehun to the doctor a few days ago and he’s so much better now. In fact, he’s recovered well enough from his surgery to travel for longer periods and he even managed to convince his physiotherapist that he can take a week off his sessions. He’s been mostly cooped up here in the apartment for so long that he wants to get out of town somewhere and just have a change of scenery. It’s early spring now so there will be nice places where he can take long, easy walks that'll get his muscles conditioned again. We’ll be away for about a week so and we leave tomorrow so...I won’t be able to drive out to the house to pick up the mail.

This is actually kind of—I don't even know? Upsetting? We’ve been exchanging letters twice a week for three months now and this is the first time we’ll have to go for more than three days without getting a reply. I'm not sure how that’ll work out but I don't want to wait so long to read your reply. Why don't email and texting work for us? :/

❧

Dear Jongin,

One week away? So I'll have to wait more than 7 days to hear from you again? Can't you convince Sehun that he can take nice walks in the city too? Or better still, take him to Tranquility Beach at some point. I don't know, I just—I'm going to miss hearing from you :/

...PS: Come back soon. I miss your letters already.

❧

Dear Jongin,

I know you can't collect any mail till you're done with your road trip but I thought I'd write you anyway. I hope you don't mind. Well, actually I don't care if you mind because I'm still going to tell you about this no matter what. 

So my editor rang me today and did the usual how's your draft getting on yada yada and then suddenly he tells me that the market for gay romance novels has been growing rapidly in the past year. I was a little stunned and just said "okay" because what else was I supposed to say? He doesn't even know I'm gay so I wasn't sure where he was going with this. So then he says: "you're pretty good at writing women and you're not even a woman. Imagine how much better you'd be at writing two guys falling in love."

I very calmly told him things didn't necessarily translate that easily but inside, I was bursting and exploding with how much I wanted to try writing m/m fiction. Am I crazy for thinking I can do this? Should I tell him yes, I want to give this a shot? But what if I suck at it? I mean I already know I can write het romances but gay romance novels would be a lot more special, I think, for reasons that shouldn't be too difficult to figure out. But what if I suck at it?

My editor's been texting me every day to ask if I've come to a decision and I've asked him to wait because I don't want to give him an answer until we've had a chance to talk it over. Because—well, because your opinion matters to me. You matter to me.

PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD DO, JONGIN.

...PS: I'm so excited, Jongin! But at the same time, I'm terrified of failing too. Miserably. So anxious. I think I really want this but what if I mess up? Help me decide what to do. Please?

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

Call your editor now and tell him you are doing it. You can definitely do this, Chanyeol. I mean I've never been interested in reading women's romances but I ended up reading five of them in just over a week. A small part of that was because these romances were written by you, but the bigger part—the more important one—was because you made me care about the characters so much that I had to keep reading. I had to find out what would happen next, so I had to keep going.

You really know how to tell a story, if that makes any sense at all and that's why I'm 500% sure you can write an m/m romance that readers will love. I can't wait to read it and I don't know how the writing process works but if you ever need to talk about your story, I'm always here. Good luck, Chanyeol! I'm so happy for you!

I didn't expect to find three letters from you in the mailbox. I was so excited I almost wanted to read them all at the same time lol. If you're reading this, that means you've found my three letters. I'm sorry I wrote so much but I saw so many things on the trip with Sehun that I needed to tell you about. I felt really bad about potentially flooding your mailbox so I was beyond glad to find you'd written me three letters too lol. Road trips sure are just too stressful and I must talk Sehun out of it if he wants to go on another one.

...PS: I'm so glad to be home again.

❧

Dear Jongin,

Thank you for the advice, Jongin. It means a lot to me that you liked my writing enough to read five books about guys kissing girls in ten days. It means everything to me, I can’t even explain. So anyway, I called my editor twenty minutes ago and told him I’d give writing m/m romances a shot, as long as I could use a pseudonym. And he said that was fine with him as long as I handed over a complete manuscript by the final deadline. Just like that, I'm going to be writing an m/m romance.

...Can I just tell you how much I missed your letters while you were taking Sehun all over the countryside? It was silly of me but I found myself standing in front of the mailbox a few times a day even though I knew I wouldn't find anything there but bills and bank statements in impersonal, white envelopes. I knew I wouldn't find jewel-colored envelopes with pages and pages of your neat handwriting inside. I knew all this but it didn't stop me from trudging to the red mailbox at least three to four times a day anyway. Hope springs eternal, lol. Well, hope and...you know, there’s this Anne Sexton [poem](http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/anne-sexton/small-wire/) I love. I’m not usually the kind to read poetry but I love these few lines from ‘Small Wire’, and I hope you like them too:

_As it has been said:_  
_Love and a cough_  
_cannot be concealed._  
_Even a small cough._  
_Even a small love._

I guess...I guess I might have a cough. And other things. Okay, I’ll stop now because I’m just too awkward and embarrassing (not to mention embarrassed).

...PS: Please write back even though I’m lame. In my defence, I’m a little bit in love and people in love have never been quite rational.

**_2014 The Writer_ **

The final page of Jongin's letter was gripped between his fingers. He'd read the last two paragraphs of the letter twice and he still wasn't altogether sure what they meant. He knew what he wanted them to mean, but what did Jongin want them to _mean_? Hands trembling slightly, Chanyeol reread the end of the letter again...

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

...Let’s go on a date. On May 20th—it’s a Tuesday for you and a Monday for me. Let’s go to the amusement park near Tranquility Beach. You know the one, don’t you? Let’s “meet” at 2 pm and spend the afternoon there. Just pretend we’re on a date, holding hands and eating cotton candy and going on the rides together. Don’t you think it would be kind of amazing? Well, kinda cheesy and gross, but amazing too. 

So I really...I want us to go on a date, Chanyeol. What do you say? May 20th, 2pm. I’ll be wearing an indigo sweater with black jeans. No glasses. I should just give you a photograph of myself but somehow, I think it will spoil the magic if I do. So just imagine a six feet nothing, twenty-seven year old Korean dude in a blue knit sweater and black jeans. Will you come? Just say yes. Please? 

Love,  
Jongin  
May 20th, 2016

PS: I may have a small cough too. Or maybe a bad one, I’m not sure.

❧

Chanyeol closed his eyes and shouted with the rest of the people on the rollercoaster as the wind whipped through his hair and over his skin. The speed and noise and dramatic drops were firing his nerve endings with exhilaration...elation. He’d never felt so alive. He imagined that there was someone sharing the seat with him, his hand warm and securely gripped in his own—their fingers and their voices intertwined as they yelled their hearts out.

Was Jongin doing the same thing in 2016? He hoped he was. Abruptly, Chanyeol was filled with a bone-deep longing to see Jongin. Truth be told, he _always_ wanted to see Jongin, but the yearning was more acute this time—like a lingering, stinging cut in his chest. 

They had to find a way to meet so he could have Jongin’s hand in his for real. He needed to see Jongin and touch his face and tell him how he felt—not in ink-formed letters and words, but with his voice. Somehow, they would make it happen, Chanyeol promised himself. But for now, he would spend the afternoon here like Jongin had asked. He’d go on a few more rides, have cotton candy and pretend they were holding hands as they walked through the park. Chanyeol would do all those things and hope his tear ducts wouldn’t decide to start working. 

_Coughs suck._

❧

Dear Jongin,

...So I had a great time during our date and I think it’s my turn to ask you out. You know that quaint, out-of-the-way restaurant along Wellington Road? It’s called Café Verbena and it’s about twelve minutes’ drive from Tranquility Beach. Let’s meet there—I mean, let’s really meet there, Jongin. On June 2nd, 2016. I’m sitting at my favorite table in Café Verbena right now, writing you this letter; it’s on the terrace, overlooking the sea so the ambience is amazing. 

But the view aside, one of the best things about this place is that you can leave messages for people. There’s a collection of mason jars on the bar where you can drop letters or notes addressed to anyone. So I’m going to leave a letter for you today and I hope you’ll decide to meet me on June 2nd and that you’ll read my letter (it’s in the biggest mason jar with the turquoise glass lid) before I arrive because...well, there are some things I want to say to you and I’m not sure I can get them out if we’re face to face and meeting for the first time so I’m just going to put them down on paper just in case. And wow, that was the most badly-constructed sentence ever but I'm so nervous now I can't really English right now. 

I really hope you’ll show up. I know this might be a little weird for you but I hope you’ll say yes and come to Café Verbena and let me buy you coffee and cake and tea and whatever you like—just say you’ll come, please? It’s a week away for you but I’ll have to wait two years and one week. It’s two years from now and you might not believe me but I promise you, I will be there. Two years is nothing if I get the chance to see you at the end of it. 

With love and affection,

Chanyeol  
May 25th 2014

PS: Please say yes.

**_2016 The Glassblower_ **

Jongin’s hands adjusted the collar of his black chambray shirt for the third time since he’d walked into Café Verbena. Was it too casual? Maybe he should have worn a jacket too—why hadn’t he brought one? Why wasn’t he calm? The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself or to be a petrified mess when he finally met Chanyeol—assuming he even showed up for their meeting. Two years was a long time and realistically, Jongin knew Chanyeol might well have forgotten their date by now. He knew this just as he knew that no matter how badly he thought he’d embarrassed himself, Chanyeol wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t judge him. 

Feeling marginally less nervous, Jongin surveyed his surroundings. The restaurant was small and intimate with dark wood tables and chairs, and ivory tablecloths. He couldn’t help smiling as he recognized the light fittings in the corner. They were champagne-tinted blown glass pendant lights he’d made a year ago. So unexpected. His eyes scanned the area in search of mason jars and he found them just where Chanyeol had said that be: on the far end of the bar. 

The bartender looked up and asked if he needed help. _Later_ , Jongin smiled awkwardly just before he unlocked the turquoise glass lid and reached his arm inside the one foot high jar. It was the tallest in the cluster of tall, see-through jars, filled with envelopes and rolled up scrolls of paper. It took some maneuvering but Jongin finally located the envelope with his name written on it. It felt a little strange...finding a letter from Chanyeol in a place other than the red mailbox.

Breaking the seal on the envelope, Jongin walked through the terrace doors and out into the mild summer sunshine. A waiter brought him to one of the tables overlooking the sea and he sat down, spreading the single sheet of paper out carefully on the glass surface of the outdoor table. The tangy salt in the breeze tickled his nostrils as he began to read.

❧

Dear Jongin,

I can’t believe I’m going to meet you today. Because if you’re reading this, that means I’m on my way to Café Verbena to meet you. I know we’ve only been writing to each other for six months but it feels like we’ve known each other much longer. At least that’s how it is for me. I’m not someone who’s very much in touch with my feelings—at least that’s what my sisters tell me and maybe one of my two ex-es told me the same thing at some point.

I can write about other people having feelings and write about other people falling in love, but it’s not something I’d experienced first hand. I’ve had relationships but they were more about companionship than romance if that makes any sense. I loved my ex-es but I wasn’t in love with them. I enjoyed being with them but at the same time, I was happy to do things on my own and didn’t miss them. But you...I miss you ALL the time. All the time, Jongin. 

When you went on your road trip with Sehun, I felt like a piece of me had been cut adrift—which is kind of crazy since we’ve never even met or actually spent any time together. It’s crazy and yet, that’s how I felt, and it's not an emotion I'm used to. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d never fallen in love with anyone until you. Maybe it will spoil everything if we meet, but I feel like I need to see you—so I can make sure you’re real, so I can see and touch your face, and maybe hold your hand if that’s okay with you.

Am I crazy? It sure feels like I am. Or maybe...maybe I’m just in love. 

I can’t wait to see you and I hope you’re at least a little bit in love with me too.

Yours, 

Chanyeol

❧

The waiter approached him, asking if he could get him a drink. Smiling, Jongin ordered a double macchiato and settled down to wait. He wondered what Chanyeol would look like and what kind of glasses he wore. Would he be as friendly in real life as he was in his letters? Would they get along? Would there be long, awkward silences between them? _So many things to stress over_ , he thought, shaking his head.

_But Chanyeol._

Jongin stared out at the pale turquoise waves, sunlight glittering on the surface. It was going to be a beautiful afternoon, he thought, as he reread the letter Chanyeol had written him—a tingling warmth converging in his chest.

❧

A double macchiato, a latte and two glasses of San Pellegrino later, Jongin had to accept that Chanyeol would not be showing up. Deep down, he knew that Chanyeol was the kind of person who kept his word and that he wouldn’t have missed their date unless something important had come up. It was too bad that texting didn’t work for them. The red mailbox was literally their only reliable mode of communication and it was pretty useless for last minute cancellations. He tried his best not to be devastated that he’d waited for three hours and Chanyeol hadn’t turned up.

After paying the bill, Jongin climbed into his car and drove in the direction of Tranquility Beach. Maybe he’d left a note or a letter of apology in the red mailbox. Something, anything to explain his absence today. Inhaling sharp and deep, Jongin pulled open the door and peered inside, and found _nothing_.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

It’s been five days and I still haven’t heard from you. Are you okay? 

...PS: I miss your letters, your way with words and—I just miss you, Chanyeol. Please be okay and write soon.

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

It’s been eight days—where are you? I Googled your name but all I could find were links to articles you’d written for ‘Moderngirl’ magazine and the most recent one is dated 2013.

I’m so worried. Please write soon...

❧

Dear Chanyeol,

My last four letters are still in your mailbox—all unopened :/ Where are you? I went to see your editor, Mr Byun because I was desperate to find you. I got the name of your publishing house from those romances I bought, see? Anyway, he told me very firmly that they never released an author's personal details to anyone so I would have to discover Chaewon Park’s whereabouts on my own. Even when I mentioned your real name, Mr Byun wouldn’t budge and we never got round to talking about our hometowns so I had no idea where to start finding your family.

Anyway, I’m just rambling because I haven’t been getting much sleep. Yesterday, Sehun said I looked like a wraith. I was going to make a rude retort but then I didn’t in the end because he’d only been telling the truth. I’m so tired and I just want to speak to you again—I mean read your letters again. But also, I really want to see you and speak to you. I just need to know you’re safe and happy. Please be safe, Chanyeol, and write soon.

**_July 2016_ **

It had been four weeks since the non-date with Chanyeol and Jongin had been making regular trips to _Il Mare_ but it seemed like there wouldn’t be any more letters from Chanyeol in the foreseeable future. He should stop driving up there because the return journeys hurt more and more when they were always made empty handed. Sighing, Jongin tried to shrug off the melancholy and bring his mind back to the present. He was taking Cola on her daily evening walk and seconds ago, the energetic dog had broke into a dead run, darting between pedestrians. Jongin has almost caught up her when she suddenly stopped without warning.

"Cola! What's that you got there? What's that under your feet?" Jongin petted the base of her neck before easing the flyer from beneath her paws. His eyes flicked over the page, not paying full attention, as he tucked Cola under his arm.

" _Whisper Publishing House. Gay romances for readers who enjoy reading about twentysomething guys falling in love."_ Jongin's eyes scanned over the book covers and titles and author information. Nothing registered until he saw the cover art of what looked like two young men with sea and sky in the background. Their hands were interlocked and their faces were excluded from the frame. Then his gaze settled on the book title:

 _A Piece of the Sea  
CARRICK FINNEGAN_

His mouth parting in shock, Jongin read the words again. He had to find the nearest bookstore. He had to find it _now_.

❧

The copy of Carrick Finnegan's book felt heavy in Jongin's hands. Too heavy. He was about to flip open the pages when he stopped himself. It felt wrong to be doing it in front of a bookshelf, so Jongin moved over to the store window. The blurred shapes of cars whizzed past beyond the glass, and with trembling fingers, Jongin turned the cover. The publication date said 2014, and there was a dedication:

_For J., who gave me a wishing owl and a piece of the sea I could keep with me always. You told me I could do this and I guess I did! You will always have my heart...let's be paralians together._

Jongin didn’t even have time to get emotional over the words Chanyeol had left for him as he paid for three copies of Chanyeol’s book and rushed out the store. In just under an hour, Jongin was sitting across the desk from Mr Byun. He was a compact man with a friendly face and a demeanor that seemed to switch seamlessly between amiable and shrewd and unyielding.

“Please, I know you know where Chanyeol is.”

“I already told you that we can’t give out personal details,” the man said dismissively.

“I know he wrote this,” Jongin placed the stack of copies he’d bought on the mahogany desk.

“I beg your pardon?!” The shock on Mr Byun’s face was almost palpable.

“Carrick Finnegan is Park Chanyeol’s pseudonym. I know this because I chose the name Carrick for the wishing owl I made him. And I was the one who persuaded him to try writing gay romances. I’m the J he mentions in his dedication and I’ve brought letters he and I exchanged if you have any further doubts. It’s a very complicated situation. The way we met is...unorthodox and most people would have trouble believing it. But I’m willing to let you invade our privacy and read those letters if that’s what it will take to convince you to help me find Chanyeol. He asked me to meet him on June 2nd but he never showed up and I’ve been trying to find him since—with no luck. Hopefully, my luck is about to change. Please, Mr. Byun, you need to help me. Help _us_.” 

“I—”

“Please, I must see him. I've been worried sick for weeks,”

For half a second, Mr Byun looked like he might say no but instead, he gave a long, drawn out sigh that sounded a lot like defeat. Then he took out his phone.

“Hi, Yura? I have someone here who says he knows Chanyeol, and that he gave him a wishing owl.”

❧

The half-hour long ride in the editor’s Audi A4 had been filled with awkward stretches of silence and updates about Chanyeol’s health. Face and voice solemn, Mr Byun had informed Jongin that Chanyeol had been hit by a car at 1.30pm while crossing a road, on June 2nd, 2014. He had sustained head injuries, a broken leg and a few fractured ribs. The knowledge was like a ball of pain lodged in Jongin's chest. He had always feared the worst, feared that Chanyeol might have missed their date because he'd been hurt. But knowing that it had actually happened and that he hadn't been there for Chanyeol like he had been there for Sehun? Jongin wasn't sure he would ever forgive himself.

Tears threatening to fall, Jongin realized that the accident had happened half an hour before their promised meeting time, but two years earlier. It was also a month before he had moved into _Il Mare_. How had Cola managed on her own for a month? She must have somehow found kind neighbors who had fed her scraps. He didn’t even want to think about it and vowed to give her extra cuddles and treats when he got home. 

For three days after the accident, Chanyeol had lain in hospital in a coma. When he’d awoken, the doctors had run the usual barrage of tests and posted a diagnosis of post-traumatic amnesia. The first few days after regaining consciousness, he kept saying he had a date in two years, but he couldn't remember who he was supposed to meet and where he had to go. He only knew that it was very important to him and that he had to go. 

They couldn’t even check any of his personal effects for information about this mystery date because all Chanyeol had had on him was his wallet, which had been tucked inside his back pocket. According to Mr Byun, Chanyeol never went anywhere without his Crumpler messenger bag because it was perfect for lugging his notebook, stationery and laptop. But there had been no sign of the bag at the accident scene or at his house; someone had to have stolen it. 

“He submitted his manuscript to me two weeks before or his book might never have been published, who knows? Anyway, all his belongings were packed up and moved to his family home in Woodvale because it wasn’t feasible for him to live alone after the accident. Chanyeol bought the beach house a few months prior, but his family didn't want it to lie empty and unused. As soon as they'd settled Chanyeol in Woodvale, they put _Il Mare_ up for rent.”

“I was the tenant. I moved in July, 2014 and lived there till last December.”

“Oh my God, that was you?”

“That’s kind of how we met—if you can call it that,” Jongin answered without offering to explain. "Why didn't they take Chanyeol's dog? His family, why didn't they take the dog with them? Didn't he ask for Cola?"

"The dog went missing apparently. They went back to the beach house on three different occasions in search of it, but the dog never showed up. And Chanyeol didn't seem to recall having a dog even though his family knew he had one. Traumatic amnesia doesn't always make sense I guess."

“He’s been saying in recent months that he wants to move back to _Il Mare_. He went back to writing four months ago but he insists he can’t write well in the family home. Too many people and too many distractions. He says he misses the sea and he finds it difficult to fall asleep without the sound of the waves nearby,” Mr Byun gave a sad smile. “His mother and sisters don’t think he’s ready though, to live on his own. Anyway, I’ll leave it to Yura to decide—how much she wants to tell you. Yura is Chanyeol’s eldest sister, by the way. He has—”

“Five sisters. He told me that,” Jongin said before staring out the window. His thoughts and emotions were a tangled mess right now but he had to somehow keep everything together. Chanyeol hurt. Chanyeol in a coma. Chanyeol not able to remember him. All these truths caused Jongin acute pain, but that last one wounded him most of all.

❧

The Park family home was a large, two-storey house with a well-manicured lawn, located in the southern reaches of Woodvale's suburban sprawl. That was all Jongin noticed as his senses clamored with the knowledge that he was about to see Chanyeol. _Finally_. It occurred to him that he didn’t even have a clue what he looked like: this person he had fallen in love with. As they walked towards the front door, Jongin tried really hard not to dwell on what Mr Byun had told him in the car, because unlike Chanyeol, Jongin’s tear ducts had always worked far too well.

The front door opened and a pretty woman who looked to be in her early 30s stood in the doorway. Her expression could only be called forbidding as she watched Jongin with wary eyes. After a brusque hello, she let them into the house and Mr Byun introduced them before making his excuses, saying he had to get back to work. 

“If you’re the person who gave Chanyeol that wishing owl he’s so attached to, you certainly took your time getting here." Her voice was sharp and scathing. “Two years! You’re abysmally late,” she shook her head disapprovingly, “I’m not sure what my brother saw in you but it’s probably a blessing he can’t remember your face or your name. All he seems to remember is that the person he loves made that owl for him, and that his name begins with a J.” 

“It’s hard to explain so I won’t even try. But believe me when I tell you that I just found out Chanyeol’s whereabouts half an hour ago. The way your brother and I met is...well, it doesn’t make any kind of logical sense at all but it somehow happened. We wrote to each other for six months but we’ve never actually met or even seen photographs of each other. I know it's hard to believe but maybe these letters from Chanyeol will help you understand," Jongin handed her the stack of letters tied neatly with a broad, satin brown ribbon. 

"I don't see how they'll make a difference," she said skeptically as she took the bundle of letters from him. The house was quiet as a tomb—like they were the only occupants. "When Chanyeol was discharged from the hospital, we brought him back here and he saw the owl on his bedside table. One of my sisters had placed it there, hoping that it would make his room here feel more like his old room at _Il Mare_. And when he saw the owl, he reached for it and his tears just started flowing. For the next two weeks he often just sat by the window, holding the owl, crying—but he couldn't seem to explain why. All he could say was that he missed the person who'd made the wishing owl. He wouldn't let us remove the owl, no matter how much we pleaded. My brother had never been one for shedding tears, but whenever he saw that owl? You must have hurt him very badly, Kim Jongin. After the first couple of weeks, he stopped crying quite so much. But I still see him sometimes—rubbing the tears away when he thinks no one is watching." 

"I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. We were supposed to meet on June 2nd this year, at a cafe near Tranquility Beach. I waited for three hours and he never turned up. I've been trying to find him since but I really didn't know where to start because he'd never gotten round to telling me where his hometown is. But I'm here now and I'd like to see him, if I may?"

"I'm not altogether sure Chanyeol needs to see you. There are black holes in his memory he can't seem to recover, but he seems to have made peace with the loss. For the most part, he's back to being the easygoing person he was before the accident. The only difference is that he has episodes of sadness now—sadness he can't explain. I'm worried that seeing you might make this sadness multiply and I don't want you to hurt my brother any further than you already have."

"I swear I have never hurt him, Ms Park, and have no intention of _ever_ hurting him. Can I—can I please see your brother?” Jongin tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice but he couldn’t quite hide the slight tremor in his words. 

"I would rather you not," she frowned, "but if there's any chance at all that you can somehow take away my brother's sorrow...I'm willing to risk it."

Park Yura led him to a room on the other end of the house. The door was ajar and they peered in. There was a young man standing by the window, looking out into the garden with a blown glass, Short-eared Irish Owl cradled in his left hand.

"Yeol, there's someone here to see you."

"Who is it, noona? Bring him in so I can say hello." His voice was a cheerful, deep baritone that suited the personality radiating from his letters. Chanyeol turned around to face them and Jongin was not prepared for how handsome he was—his straight, dark brown hair, the crease in his cheek, and his generous mouth. His smile was warm and inviting even though his eyes held a hint of sadness in them.

“This is Jongin. He gave you the wishing owl,”

“I-I don’t understand,” Chanyeol looked confused as he took a few steps towards them. He wasn't wearing glasses, Jongin realized, and he was glad in a way. Because this way he had an unhindered view of his almond shaped eyes, the faint shadows beneath them which mirrored his own. _We're both having trouble sleeping_ , he thought. This was so surreal. Jongin felt like he knew so much about Chanyeol and yet this was the first time he'd ever set eyes on him. He wasn't anything like Jongin had imagined and yet he was everything too. 

"Hi Chanyeol. I'm sorry I'm so late," Jongin stepped forward so that they now stood about six inches apart.

"So, I'll be going now. I have some errands to run," Yura cleared her throat and then she was taking the owl from Chanyeol and pushing the bundle of letters into his hands, "I believe these belong to you." She placed the owl on the bedside table and then she was gone, the door shutting with a soft click.

"I don't remember your face or your name," Chanyeol admitted, looking more than a little distressed.

"It's okay that you don't remember my name. I'm guessing you never found the letters I wrote you." Jongin's voice was quiet, so quiet. What if Chanyeol never remembered him and what they'd shared? What if Chanyeol didn't want him anymore? The possibility was a crippling blow to the solar plexus.

"No, there were no letters. They must have been in my bag that got stolen. Things would have been so much better for me if I hadn't lost that bag. I've been so lost these past two years, you know?" Chanyeol's eyes glimmered with tears as he stared at Jongin like he was a map he was trying to read.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you," Jongin took another step closer, tears pricking his eyes. "I tried to get here as soon as I could but I didn't know where to look. You never did tell me your hometown so it took me longer than I wanted to find you," Jongin took another step forward. "But I'm here now and I won't ever go away unless you want me to." His tears were running down his cheeks now, as were Chanyeol's.

"You're the person I was supposed to meet on June 2nd this year, aren't you?" Chanyeol asked as he looked down at the letters he had written Jongin.

"Yes. Yes I am."

"I'm sorry I don't remember your face," Chanyeol said and he sounded so sad that Jongin reached out and held his arm.

"You never knew my face to forget it. We both decided not to send each other photographs, so you never knew my face. This is—this is the first time I've seen you, too."

"I'm so glad. I'm so glad it's only your name that I forgot and not your face too," Chanyeol's voice was tinged with relief. "You're crying," he said just before his cool fingertips wiped the moisture away from Jongin's tear-stained cheeks.

"I've never had much trouble crying. You're the one whose tear ducts—"

"Didn't work so well. I remember. Except, things have changed and I cry all the time now," he said, with a teary, self-deprecating laugh. "My best friend Yixing visits me when he can and he's not used to how well my tear ducts work these days. I guess I have a lot to cry about. I miss the person I love, you see? I don't know his name or his face but I remember bits and pieces about him. I know he can make beautiful blown glass paperweights and glass owls. I know he loves the sea, just like me. I know he loves falling asleep to the sounds of the sea, just like me. I remember he read my romances about girls kissing boys even though he'd never read one before that. I remember his letters made me so happy and I was so sad when they were taken from me."

"I'll write those letters for you again, Chanyeol, I promise. I don't want you to cry anymore. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere," Jongin said as he took the letters from Chanyeol and placed them on the nearby desk. Then he was holding Chanyeol's hands in his. He was so much taller and Jongin had to look up. His hands were much bigger too—warm and strong. They felt good against his own.

“Every day, I make wishes to Carrick, asking him to bring back my love. I knew that if I just kept asking, my wish would come true," he said as his eyes glistened with tears. "I've waited so long.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve waited so long to see what you look like,”

"I hope you're not disappointed," Jongin said nervously.

“You’re...you’re everything. You're so much more than I ever imagined. But it doesn’t even matter. I knew you first and you’ve always been beautiful to me,” Chanyeol said so softly it was almost a whisper. There was only brief moment of shyness before they were in each other's arms.

"You've always been beautiful to me too and I'm so happy we found each other finally," Jongin smiled, just before their lips met in a kiss tinged with tenderness and intense longing. _So happy_ , he thought as they hugged again. It didn't matter if Chanyeol couldn't remember what they'd shared because they would make new memories to replace the ones he'd lost...

**_Epilogue July 2017_ **

Chanyeol can hear the gentle lapping of the ocean waves in the distance as he snuggles closer to the warm body beside him. Jongin's tawny skin smells of the lemon soap he likes—the one he gets from the organic store in town. Chanyeol loves the way Jongin smells. It’s an intoxicating mix of lemon soap and mint shampoo and Jongin that Chanyeol likes to fall asleep and wake up to.

"Can you hear that? It's raining," Jongin's husky voice informs him, "I love the sound of the rain almost as much as I love the sound of the sea."

"I know," Chanyeol smiles as he kisses his shoulder. He knows a lot of things about Jongin now that he’s had a whole year to learn him.

"Let's drive up to the city," Jongin turns to face Chanyeol, their noses touching. Jongin’s face still takes his breath away most days. He loves the way Jongin always looks sleepy no matter the time of day, and the way his lips form a slight pout when he’s not paying attention. 

"This weekend?" 

"Yes, this weekend. I haven’t seen Sehun for almost a month and I'm sure you miss Yixing too,"

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to the idea that our best friends are dating and living together," Chanyeol groans.

"They're happy together. Let them be happy," Jongin pokes him in the shoulder and that's when they hear it—scrabbling noises right outside their bedroom door. 

"Cola, go away, oh my God. You're supposed to sleep in the living room, go away!" Chanyeol brings his groaning up a notch.

"It's raining and I can hear some thunder in the distance," Jongin nestles against his chest.

"NO."

"But she gets scared when there's thunder," 

"Jongin, no," Chanyeol makes a feeble protest.

"Just for tonight?"

"You say that every time there's a storm!"

"Please? I'll write you a really long letter tomorrow and I'll even throw in a Polaroid," Jongin's smile is just a little cheeky as he makes the offer. They write each other every day—sometimes brief post-it's and notes left on each other's work desks or on the fridge door, or maybe taped to the kitchen table or clipped under a coffee cup. Sometimes they write each other long, rambling letters like the ones they used to leave each other in the red mailbox, and these are the ones that mean the most. But it really isn't important what form it takes, Chanyeol and Jongin always leave each other paper and words and ink, just like they had at the start of their courtship.

"That's emotional blackmail. You know I can't resist your letters," he grumbles as he slides out of bed and trudges to the door. "Just for tonight, Cola, you brat. Don't get too used to sleeping in here. I'm not as big a softie as your other dad," Chanyeol gives the terrier a warning look and she whines and patters over to the bed to lick Jongin's hand. Her other master is more than happy to pet her. Knowing he's been outvoted, Chanyeol sighs and walks out to get Cola's basket—only climbing back into bed after he's settled the dark wicker basket at the foot of their bed. 

"Thank you," Jongin whispers, his lips pressing against Chanyeol's back as he wraps his arms around Chanyeol's waist. "Anyway, he would have whined against the door all night if you hadn't let him in."

"That doesn't make it okay, Kim Jongin," he glares as hard as he can.

"You love that dog, Park Chanyeol. You would have let him in on your own without any help from me, let's face it. You're an even bigger softie than I am."

"Am not,"

"Are too," Jongin laughs as their lips meet and make playful, teasing contact.

"I love you, Jongin," Chanyeol says, eyes suddenly serious as he cups Jongin's cheek. He's still the most beautiful creature Chanyeol has ever seen and the kindest, and he can't imagine lasting a day without him nearby.

Jongin's hand curls around his nape and draws him close. "I love you too, Chanyeol," he says just before his lips fit over Chanyeol's and his tongue slips into his mouth, warm and seductive. 

Outside _Il Mare_ , the waves crash against the jetty, fierce and loud. The rain rattles hard against the roof and the glass windows, and somewhere in the distance, there's the aggressive rumbling of thunder. The elements are raging beyond the walls of the house, but Chanyeol doesn't care because he's safe in the harbor of Jongin's arms, and they're by the sea where they belong.

a/n: Thank you so much for reading _The Sea-Dwellers_! If you enjoyed it, I hope you'll leave a comment or kudo or both ♡ the sequel to this story, which takes place a year after chankai meet, can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6213445)


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